Daughter of Riddles
by ShikaShake15
Summary: Adopted into the Weasley family as one of their own at birth, Jenna never felt like she belonged. What will happen when she discovers her father is Lord Voldemort as her sunshiny personality gets darker and darker? Will the Golden Trio change?
1. Prologue

**(AN: Be sure to review, favorite, follow, and continue to read. :—) I love to hear your thoughts.)**

**Chapter One: Prologue**

Fire glittered around the building showing off its impressive colors of vermillion and canary yellow. Beams, staircases, roofing, and furniture began to be consumed by the flames. It slowly licked up the oxygen inside the building emitting smoke and carbon dioxide. Not a soul could breath in it without difficulty doing so, unfortunately two souls of only a few months old and an eight year old were trapped there...

There was a team of wizard rescuers there to go and safe the infant or any other soul trapped in there and also put out the flames. There the Weasley's were with Percy being four years old and clutching tightly to his mother, the twins two years of age and watching in fascination, Bill who was ten stuck close to his Dad, and the Mr. and Mrs. were worried beyond believe because their son Charlie who was eight was in the fire, trapped.

Out came one of the wizards with a shaking and scared eight year old Charlie in his grasp, the Weasley parents rushed over to grab their son in their loving arms. Mrs. Weasley didn't dare let go of her crying son as the rest of their many boys ran over to their parents clueless as to what's going on.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Mrs. Weasley cried out hugging her child tighter.

The wizard was uncomfortable as held up an object in a small blanket. He looked as if he was trying to get something out without coming off as imposing.

"What's wrong, Zokan?" Mr. Weasley asked using his surname.

Mr. Zokan held the blanket with the object in it in front of him to open. Mr. Weasley hesitantly opened the blanket and revealed a sleeping infant to the dark sky and for all to see. The infant fell asleep when Mr. Zokan went looking for her mother and father and they were nowhere to be found.

"It seems that this child is indeed proved herself as a witch, magic saved her life and kept her from dying in that fire," the man explained, "However, I couldn't find her parents, I don't even know who her parents are..."

Mr. Weasley looked very hesitant, but Mrs. Weasley over heard their conversation and knew that she was a baby girl by Mr. Zokan's word choice. She's always wanted a daughter seeing as she's tried five times for a girl and ended up with six boys instead, they didn't even end up with one girl out of all Mr. and Mrs. Weasley tries.

"Oh Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed taking a look at the little girl, "Isn't she precious? Let's keep her, please!"

Mr. Weasley was quite hesitant as he looked back and forth between his sons and the little girl wrapped in a blanket in front of them. He knew his wife wanted nothing more than a little girl to pamper and love. Mr. Weasley finally relinquished and said yes since the man has always had a warm heart.

So, the little girl born as Amara Riddle was accepted into the Weasley family as one of their own named Jennifer Weasley...

* * *

xXx

* * *

_• Twelve Years Later •_

Here I am running for my life out of breath and panting harshly. You want to know why I'm practically dying with over exertion and fear? Well, you see I nicked some of Fred and George's fireworks... shh, don't tell anybody; they'd probably kill me to be honest.

"Jenna!" Fred and George screamed at me.

One may ask, why did I nick these from them? The main reason was because I was bored and I needed something to do and the other reason is because they poured cold water on me during my shower last week; I'm still holding a grudge and this is my attempt at pay back.

Anyway, I found a spot to hide myself panting roughly with the fireworks clutched tightly to my chest. I'm in the enclosed chicken coop with my fellow chicken friends, initially when I ran in here they went mad making noises and flapping everywhere and anywhere to get away from the intruder, so I tried my best to calm them down.

I put my pointer finger to my lips and shushed them as I threw some feed out scattering it towards them from the large bag of feed stored in here. They immediately calmed down eating and pecking at the ground to consume every morsel like they haven't eaten in days. I let out a sigh of relief...

Then I heard them, I slapped my hand over my mouth to cease any further sounds so I wouldn't be discovered. Slowly... slowly, I backed up as swiftly and soundlessly as I could into the hen section where our family separates the roosters and hens when it's a certain season; we did some magically modifications to the originally structure for this to be possible, my father does love his Muggle things. It is a small box like structure that I had to situate myself in with difficulty since I have to be silent and I'm holding fireworks tightly to my chest.

I wedged myself in there as the chickens began to cluck like normal. I shut the door to the individual box and glad that the screen was designed in a way that it was really hard to make out what's in the box, but unfortunately the same principle applies for the inside.

I attempted to take only really shallow undetectable breaths as they burst through into the coop making the chickens freak out and me to tense and hear my own heart beat into my ears fiercely.

"She must be in here," Fred said flipping things over from what I can tell.

"Keep looking," George said, "she took our best fireworks!"

I bit my lip to keep from screaming when one of the doors of individual doors burst open. I felt the light sting of blood trickle from my mouth since my teeth broke skin and I felt fear as my heart began to beat faster and faster.

I stopped breathing all together when I saw the blurred image of a hand coming towards me. I closed my eyes tightly and expected to be caught and have these fireworks ripped from my grasp, but then there was some stomping from not that far away and I saw them scramble out of the chicken coop.

"We've got you now, Jenna!" Fred exclaimed with George scrambling out of the coop right behind him.

I let out a sigh of relief and took in some much needed heavy breaths since I was getting light headed before I crawled out of the space as ungracefully as someone with heavy jelly legs. I still remained as quiet as possible even though I did knock my head against one of the support beams when I got out; I had to clap my hand over my mouth from crying out because that hurt so badly.

I don't know who that was who was running around by the chicken coop, but I _will_ thank them later.

I snuck back and off of the little ramp behind me that led to where the chickens can go out of the coop and be out in the open air, yet still contained so they wouldn't escape. It was completely open at the top considering a roof is not needed because chickens are flightless birds, this seemed like the only time I would be able to ruin everything for my mischievous brothers who initially pranked me first.

How is this ruining everything for them? Simple, they were going to use these fireworks to set them off in Percy's room since they've always wanted to really truly prank our snobby and holier than thou brother. I don't particularly have a problem with that, but this is perfect pay back for pouring cold water on me during my hot and relaxing shower.

"This ought to teach them a lesson," I said softly to myself.

I set the fireworks up pointing towards the sky and pulled out a box of matches. It took a couple of strikes to the side of the box before I got a flame to appear on the end of the stick. I stood on my feet fully, preparing to back up as fast as I can when this giant candle is lit. I watched as the fire ate up the wick and I rushed back against cage and watched as it burst going high into the sky with a piercing whizzing sound.

Unfortunately even though I was backed up all the way against the cage the force of it knocked me off of my feet and onto the hard ground beneath me. I coughed harshly at the force of it all, but I still had a smile on my face because I ruined my brothers' plans and I got to see pretty fireworks in the sky glitter up there.

I stood on shaky limbs still smiling as the chickens, my brothers, and my parents started freaking out at the sight of the Burrow having fireworks making amazing shapes and dancing above it.

"Yes! I did it!" I exclaimed throwing a fist into the air and did a victory jump.

Much to my misfortune that happened to attract attention to me considering during the show I was the only one making noise to express my personal victory since everyone was in shock— except Fred and George who were upset because they didn't get to property prank Percy— because of some high scale fireworks were blasting into the sky. Uh-oh...

I along with Fred and George were sitting in the kitchen being yelled at by Mum later that day. I had to look away since I can't deal with people yelling in my face—it usually provokes tears unless I can yell back at the person— and from the corner of my eyes I saw a look pass my brothers' features. I shook my head lightly to signal that I'm not doing it and they nodded lightly back signaling me to do it; this was all exchanged so Mum wouldn't see what went on between us.

I bit my lip again as they clasped their hands together in a pleading fashion as Mum probably couldn't see right since she was yelling so loudly and flinging her head back and forth. Do I really want to help them? I guess I will since I'm not that heartless. I nodded my head once and they smiled in victory.

I looked up and I listened to the harshness and meanness coming out of her mouth knowing "selfish idiotic twit" was directed to me and I began to feel tears well up in my eyes. Then like one stick too many on a dam my tears overflowed past the rims of my eyes like a lake over a broken dam. Loud sobs echoed throughout the kitchen and I saw my Mum look taken aback before her features began to soften since I or anybody else in this house has ever cried when being yelled at... I don't usually cry.

"M-m-mum!" I cried loudly hamming it up a lot, "Why are you so mean to me and my brothers?!"

From the corner of my eye I saw Fred and George run full force out of the kitchen whilst laughing at all of this and out the door. With that being done Mum's anger came back full force...

"Fred! George!" Mum exclaimed running out of the house in her bout of renewed anger.

I got up and ran up the stairs and didn't stop until I reached the room Ronny and I share. I was a bit out of breath and I was rubbing away the tears. I flopped on my bed listening to it creak lowly and watching my used converse flop up into the air as well before they smacked against the bed too. The biggest smile was lighting up my face.

"Are you okay, Jenna?" Ronny said since he saw my tears.

"I'm fine, Ronny... just fake crying," I rolled onto my stomach with a bright smile on my face facing my twin brother and using my nickname for him.

"I wish you would stop calling me that," he groaned in annoyance laying back on his back again.

I rolled my eyes as I kicked my legs back and forth behind me, "As if I could Ronny Wonton-y! Anyway, what did you think of the fireworks? Pretty cool way to ruin their prank for drenching me in cold water, huh?"

The brother that shares my birthday looked seemingly bored. I pursued my lips before I stood and dive bombed the bed right beside him. He grunted in annoyance at my resilience when it comes to being ignored.

"Bloody hell, Jenna!" He said as I ruffled his bright ginger hair.

"What's the matter?" I said pressing my chin against his shoulder wanting my twin and best mate to talk to me.

"No," he said crossing his arms.

I pouted at this and knew what would get him to speak since I've dealt with Ronny Wonton-y for years. I sat up and proceeded to tickle-attack him. He began to laugh, tell me to stop and try to push me off of him.

"Okay! Okay! Jenna, I'll tell you!"

I relented, sat back and away from him giving him some space to signal that I'm done and he better open up his trap and start talking again otherwise I'm going to tickle him again.

"Spill Ronny Ron," I said crossing my arms.

"I'm rather jealous of how you do everything," he said throwing his hands in the air in frustration, "You're so bloody fearless!"

My bottom lip stuck out a bit, my finger tapped lightly against my chin as my arms were crossed over my chest, my eyes were looking up, and one of my eyebrows were raised— the classic quizzical pose. So, that's what my twinsy was upset about? He's upset that he's not getting a cut of the action? Well, I'll have to let him in on a little secret.

"Well," it was very drawn out before I continued, "if it'll make you feel any better I'll let you in on a little secret."

He looked interested now, "What kind of secret?"

"An action packed secret," I said hopping off of the bed and going toward the window, "follow me."

"Wait!" He said but I already swung my body over and out of the window.

I grasped the ladder that our strange Great Aunt Tessie gave the family for Christmas one year; it's a ladder that various flowers are supposed to climb up it to make the side of the house look pretty..., don't ask me to understand why she thought this was a good gift, because I don't.

"Jenna," he hissed lowly for fear of Mum, Percy, or Dad overhearing us, "have you gone mad? Mum told us not to do anything after dark."

I looked around as I was half way down the ladder. It would appear it will be dark in a couple of hours, but I could careless. A wicked smirk graced my lips as I looked at my twin for life.

I began to talk to him like I would a baby, "Awwww, is Ickle Ronny Wonton-y scared of his Mommy and Daddy?"

I could see the tip of his ears grow red with embarrassment and anger at my provocations to get him to join me and cheer him up. I hopped down on the grass and gave him a half wave and I continued to smirk as he let out a fluster of incoherent words trying to express how conflicted he was about either joining me or ignoring me.

"Well, while you think on that," I said beginning to walk away, "I'm gonna go have some fun, 'cause apparently I'm _fearless_."

By now his entire face was red and it was greatly amusing, but I didn't wait up like I just stated. I ran behind the house for a fairly good time since the stone shed is a pretty decent ways away. I don't mind, I like the freedom of the wind in my face and tossing my locks back and forth and reaching a goal even if it exhausts me in the process.

I reached the shed and looked at my brothers with a small smile on my face. It was mischievous, of course, considering they owe me now... they completely and utterly owe me for saving their butts from Mum's wrath.

"Our darling sister!" Fred said in his usual funny manner.

He proceeded to lift my tiny body into the air and swing me around. I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips at being swung around in the air. George just laughed and smiled as Fred set me down.

"Now you owe me me," I smirked with a smile gracing my lips, "_that_ means I get the good broom."

They looked hesitant like they were about to deny that this how they owed me. They usually tell me to piss off when it comes to Quidditch, but they do owe me and I want to play with my brothers for crying out loud. Fred and George mirrored each other in their poses and expressions; I couldn't help the small smile of amusement.

"You drive a hard bargain, manipulative one," George said in a jokingly serious voice, "but the only way you will be able to get the good broom tonight is if you help us sneak in the house tonight, 'kay?"

"Deal," I stated knowing that would be easy as setting off the fireworks earlier today.

Just when we got our brooms that's when Ronny decided to join us. I smiled in pure elation and cheered whilst throwing my hands in the air.

"Yea!" I exclaimed, "Ronny Wonton-y is here!"


	2. Odd Greetings

**(AN: Rose Granger: Thank you for the review, I'm glad you find this fanfic interesting. :—)**

**:—) Remember to follow, favorite and review this story please.)**

**Chapter Two: Odd Greetings**

I stood in front of the mirror in the room Ronny Ron and I share. He, of course, was stuffing his face like usual. I on the other hand was about to finish up fixing my hair. I can't stand that I look nothing like the rest of my family. I have dark brown eyes and they have blue, I have dark loose ringlet hair and they have wild ginger hair, I have pale freckle-less skin and they have freckles glittered all over their face, and I'm short and thin and they're tall and lanky.

Where do I get my genetics from? I look nothing like them whatsoever, it's disheartening.

I tried to shake it off as best as I could, but I still felt prickling in my stomach at the notion. I finished brushing my hair and then I approached the stairs with a smirk. I with a grunt of exertion I slung my trunk down the stairs watching it thump all the way down before I sat on the rail and slid all the way down. It was greatly fun until I collided into the post and went rearing forward and fell on my face.

"Ow," I said softly as I picked myself up.

"Jenna!" Mum shouted, "You better not be sliding on that rail again!"

I sighed as I stood trying to get up and ignore the mild pain of crashing. I rubbed my lower back, that's become so sore.

Unfortunately, the person who witnessed me and my ungraceful landing happened to be my older brother, Percy. His head was tilted high with a look of importance and superiority and his Prefect Badge was extra shiny this morning since he's going to be bossing a lot of people around today.

"Jennifer," he said stiffly, "the house is not your play thing, so I suggest you straighten up."

"Percy," I said with dark eyebrows knit together in annoyance, "what the deuce are you doing here? I told you I prefer the nickname Jenna. Plus, just because you're a Prefect and I'll be a First Year this year doesn't mean you can boss me around, got it?"

Percy looked as if he was just about to scoff and scold me about what I just said, but Fred and George came up behind him and whacked him lightly in the back. Percy jolted forward a bit and his features transformed into pure annoyance at his younger brothers.

"Come on Perce," George said, "loosen up, she's just trying to have some fun."

"Don't call me that and don't touch me again," he said trying to properly situate himself.

This time it was Fred who smacked Percy's back..., but instead of turning it out to be just a friendly gesture Percy fell forward and down the stairs. Fred, George, and I began to laugh loudly at this. He went _thump thump thump_ and his face contorted in such pain... oh that was rich, just absolutely wonderful.

Mum and Ronny Ron ran in here as we continued to laugh at Percy. Mum began to freak out as she pulled up Percy's face and it turned he had a broken nose. Everyone began to go silent except me since I just couldn't stop laughing.

Everyone began to look at me incredulously since I just couldn't properly stifle my gut hurting laughter, which should have been contagious. Tears were dotting my eyes and their stares worsened at how I find when people are in pain like that is so funny...

What's wrong with me and my sick sense of humor?

* * *

xXx

* * *

Later that day we were on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and I just stared blinking around at everything... Fred and George lied, there isn't an elephant engraving on the front of the train, the jerks. I stared around the area with my arms crossed since I was waiting for my turn of a really long hug and farewell.

When I was looking all the people around me with excitement in my heart and nervousness I caught two grey eyes staring at me from not that far away from me. The man pale blonde hair, fair skin, and a cane that looks like it's used to either look superior or smack people around.

I watched as the man whispered to— I presume she's his wife— a woman's ear before he came toward me with an air of importance. I crossed my arms and tried to convince myself that the man isn't coming toward me.

"Amara," he said softly whilst grasping my arm to keep me from leaving... I don't want to deal with him that's why I tried to get away from him.

"No," I said wrenching my tiny arm out of his grasp, "my name is Jenna. You have the wrong person."

"Well, of course, I have the right person," he said getting a bit haughty yet he still maintained a regal smile trying to make me want to be around him, "you look just like your father, anyone would recognize you."

Is this man on some kind of illegal substances? He's off putting yet he's still trying to be friendly in a superior way, he makes strange and inaccurate comparisons because I look _nothing_ like my father or any of my family members for that matter, and his appearance is like that of a pervert that stares outside of your window while you sleep, changing or showering.

"No, I do not," I said curtly whilst crossing my arms over my chest.

He scoffed lightly, "You'll understand soon enough. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Lucius Malfoy... I cannot believe you live amongst those disgusting Blood Traitors; you should've been raised amongst better family members... What do you say? Would you like to live in a more... luxurious environment with a proper outlook on the world? Like with me."

Okay, now I'm scared of this man. Ronny Ron may think I'm completely fearless, but that's not true I still have basic fears such as stranger danger for example like with Lucius Malfoy for prime example. I'm going to get nightmares from him.

Also, I remember Dad talking about this man. He's cruel, vile, rude and one of the worst of wizard-kind that you could find, yet society adores him because of his Blood Purity and riches; it's all malarkey. I don't want anything to do with him or his family. Why is he even bothering me in the first place? What did I do to deserve this?

"I am familiar with you and why don't you take that offer up with my Daddy. Then Mr. Malfoy may you go to hell," I said with a small sneer as I began to walk away from him to get away from him.

"Wait," he stated and grasped my elbow.

I turned my head back towards him with a piercing gaze because this man has infuriated me, Malfoy has insulted my family and made me feel even more like I don't belong amongst them.

I watched as he recoiled from my look of anger and hatred; it felt as if I was shooting fire balls at him with my eyes. I hope he never bothers me or insults my family ever again especially not in my presence.

I then stomped off back toward my twin brother in a huff as I went over to the train. I kept close to Ronny Ron and felt my anger dissipate and turn into mild nervousness. It didn't turn into complete nervousness because I had Ronny Ron by my side and I wasn't all alone.

We eventually— after looking and opening many compartment doors to find out they're all full— found a dark haired boy sitting all alone. Ronny Ron was too frightened to ask, so I had to be the one to do it.

"Urm, hi," I said scratching the back of my head lightly to show my slight uncomfortableness, "all the rest of the compartments are full, so can we uh..."

"Sure," he said.

We sat down and across from this stranger and I hoped that this time around a complete and total stranger he wouldn't make weird and creepy suggestions of me being some kind of adopted child. It's not likely, but that man is still in the back of my mind like he's going to pop out of nowhere, kidnap me and force me to be his daughter. Ugh, I can't deal with that... I'm glad I have Ronny Ron by my side.

Then I heard my brother introduce himself, "I'm Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley."

I introduced myself too with a bright smile, "I'm Jenna Weasley... we're twins. Are you the one my brothers were talking about..., Harry Potter?"

"Yes."

I bit my lip to keep myself from dropping my jaw at meeting a famous person. However, my eyes were as wide as saucers. I've never met a famous person in my entire life. I kind of expected Harry Potter to be... a little bit different. Then again, there aren't any pictures to depict what he looks like except in books there's a lousy description that says he has a lightening bolt shaped scar.

"Hmm," I said placing my hand against my chin to inspect him, "I kind of expected you to be taller and more... filled out."

"Jenna," Ronny Ron hissed lowly and elbowing my lightly in the ribs.

At that Harry laughed softly at our slight sibling banter and my speculations. I corrected myself seeing as Ronny Ron pushed me over when he elbowed me as pay back I pinched his forearm; Harry continued to laugh amicably.

Ronny Ron scowled whilst rubbing his arm in pain before he spoke to Harry, "So, do you have the... you know..."

"Have what?" Harry said quirking his brows.

Ronny Ron leaned forward toward Harry and whispered, "The scar?"

"You mean this?" He said lifting his bangs up to reveal the scar etched on his forehead.

I blinked up at it curiously too... When my eyes scanned from his smiling face to the jagged line on his forehead I felt this horribly cold and dreadful feeling course through me; it was like someone stuffed dry ice down my clothes and then threw me down the river at four in the morning during the winter. I had to look away and shake off the cold water running through my veins.

"Wicked," Ronny Ron said and thankfully he didn't realize the uncomfortableness I was going through.

"So," he asked looking between us, "is your entire family wizards?"

"Erm, I think so, but I think we have an uncle or an aunt who's an accountant or something. I don't know what an accountant does," I said nicely as I recovered from that horrible bout of coldness.

"What are Muggles like?" Ronny Ron asked, "I heard you live with them."

Dad would love to hear about them; he's absolutely fascinated with Muggles and all of the things they do with um... what did he call it again... oh right, "technology". How in the bloody hell do they function without magic? I don't know how...

"Oh, they're awful," he said, "well, only my aunt and uncle are, but all the rest of them aren't that bad. I wish I had wizardry brothers and sisters."

* * *

xXx

* * *

"Weasley Jennifer," Professor McGonagall called my name.

I swallowed thickly before I walked up there and put on the hat as I sat on the stool. It felt like all eyes were on me and I was set before a judge as I heard a funny voice from the hat. It made me jolt a little as I trained my eyes to the floor to prevent flushing in embarrassment. I can't do crowds whatsoever, I hope I don't throw up that will definitely make things worse.

"Hm," he said, "another Weasley it seems. Well, seeing as you also possess an admirable amount of bravery yet you have a way with manipulation... Hm where to place you, where to place you, it better be... GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table began to roar in applause and cheers as I walked over to them with shaky legs; I don't like being in front of a huge crowd. I looked for an available seat considering my brothers' seats beside them are all taken. I looked around feeling a little panicked until this girl with brown and incredibly bushy hair offered me a seat.

I sat beside her and I remembered her interrupting my brother and Harry on the train when she was looking for a toad for a boy named Neville who lost... Trevor, that's the toad's name I think. I remember her being very bossy and annoying, but oh well she offered me a seat so she's alright with me.

I felt absolute relieve flow through me when Ronny Ron was sorted into Gryffindor along with Harry before me. I was a little wary of Harry since his scar caused a funny reaction to me and I have no idea why.

Anway, they were both sitting across from me and Hermione. By the way, Hermoine wouldn't stop talking... she kept going on and on about how she'll do great tomorrow when all the classes start and more about her keen knowledge of Hogwarts from _Hogwarts a History_; it was just like before we were about to be sorted into our Houses.

As much as I wanted to tell Hermione to shut up and stop talking I didn't because I really don't want people to start hating me already right at the very beginning, so I at least tried to at least to start up a conversation with her instead of it being a monologue on her part.

"Yeah," I interjected right in the middle of one of her long rants about Hogwarts, "my brothers told me a lot of false things like there was an elephant on the front of the train and that the sorting would be painful."

I laughed shortly and so did she, but I think she was just trying to be nice about it...

I went to bed without any difficulty, but after sleep that's when things got difficult. I had horrible nightmares that would scar most children for life that are under the age of eight.

_I was in a pitch black forest with giant over looming trees that feel like they would fall any second and crush me to death with their calculating sneers. I felt cold as I clutched my arms closer to me for warmth, but it was in vain._

_Then a voice that was like a thousand knives down my back spoke to me, "You know you don't belong with them whatsoever. You're too different from those Blood Traitors."_

_I heard my Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, and Ron call to me to come back from out of the forest. I tried to call out to them, but my voice wouldn't work. It felt as if somebody was choking and stealing my voice._

_When I tried to get back to them my feet wouldn't move at all and my voice wouldn't work to inform them that I'm stuck. I tried to the point that the vein on my temple was throbbing and I was sweating heavily; all the while that same horrible and cruel voice was laughing at me._

_"You see, you try to be with them, but you don't belong!"_

_"Help! Help! HELP!"_

"Jenna!"

I felt hands shake me horribly making me jolt again. I was panting, sweaty, and trying not to scream again. It was Hermione who shook me awake and I just blinked at her trying to catch my breath from such overwhelming emotions. I almost threw up from the after shocks of that grotesque and oh so real dream.

"H-hermione?" I said weakly.

"Are you okay?" She asked and her tone was laced with concern.

"F-fine," I said sitting up and getting out of bed, "What time is it?"

She informed me that it's almost time to be at the Great Hall with everyone else. My eyes widened and I scrambled out of the bed with the sheets flying.

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed and ran into the bathroom that our Dorm Room now.

I heard Hermione's laughter before I slipped off my clothes and into the shower. I tried to wash away the bad feelings of dread before I came out of the bathroom in a towel. I tried my best to get my robes on, but I was slipping and I kept falling as tried rapidly to get my proper clothes on.

Hermione continued to laugh before she said, "I'll be down stairs in the Common Room, but you've got to hurry though."

I sighed finishing up zipping up my knee length boots and placed my wand down my shoe seeing as it's a great way to store my wand in a non-breakable way. I then brushed my dark loose ringlets as I ran down the stairs. I then threw the brush into my messenger bag before running to meet up with my crowd of new friends and one of my many siblings...

I stuck close to my brother and Harry feeling like I need some friends to stick by; Hermione didn't wait up for me for crying out loud... I didn't take that long for crying out loud.

"What's up, Ronny Ron and Harry?"


	3. Professors

**AN: RoseGranger: Thank you for the review.**

**Guest: Thank you for the review.**

**Chapter Three: Professors**

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair and the girl with curly brown hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Even though the eyes weren't on me per se, I still felt my cheeks flush many hues because the eyes were directed in my direction. I don't like it at all and it makes me uncomfortable, I can't imagine how Harry must feel. I could never be famous, I couldn't deal with all the attention and worry about if my friendships are real or not.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones, narrow, rickety ones, some that led somewhere different on a Friday, some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to avoid or you plunge to the ground like someone tied you to a rock and then dumped you into the ocean. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked kindly and with a big happy smile, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending to be doors, I actually kicked that wall, I mean what kind of a jerk wall would do that? It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and I was pretty sure I saw one of the suits of armor wave at me; I waved back of course. How many suits of armor wave at you daily?

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open; it reminded me of that cold and nasty feeling I got when I looked at Harry's scar. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point Ronny Ron, Harry, and I in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two pretending walls closing in on you and one suit of armor that just so happened to trip you that day if you met him when you were late for class. Peeves would chuck weird objects at you— some had the stench of yearn—, pull rugs from under your feet, get into one of the suits of armor and chase you down the corridors, or sneak up behind you invisibly, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

I was so frightened when he did that I screamed, turned around, and punched him in the nose. After that Ronny Ron had to grab my wrist, yank me away from him, and had me run.

Even worse than Peeves— if that was even possible— was the caretaker, Mr. Argus Filch. Harry, Ronny Ron, and I managed to get on the wrong side of him on our very first morning, then again that man doesn't really have a "right" side to him he's always quite bitter and angry. Filch found us trying to force our way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe we were lost, was sure we were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock us in the dungeons when we were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing by.

I don't like Filch.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone— except perhaps the other set of twins in my family— and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts or Percy when he's angry. Everyone hates him and Peeves... and honestly, I don't condone animal abuse, but I wouldn't mind giving that damn cat a good kick in the stomach.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. I bet my anxiety levels are sky rocketing, most likely, at all the overwhelming things we have to do...

I had to study the night skies through telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets; I don't when we'll even use this in the real world outside of school. Three times a week I went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology— with an annoying little witch called Professor Sprout— where I learned how to take care of all the creepy plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Normally I like history, I find it very compelling with all of its zesty dates and amazing once upon a times, but he has just killed history for me. I have to fight to keep awake.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. It was funny and I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips, accidents like that always make me laugh.

Then there was Professor McGonagall, the head of the Gryffindor House the house I'm in along with my siblings and friends, she was one that someone should never truffle with. She was strict beyond measure and I found that out in class today during my first lesson ever at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

I watched as she turned the desk into a pig and then back. I was so excited along with everyone else to get started, but then our professor gave disappointed us, me at least anyway, when she told us we're not going to be doing something like that in years.

Instead we had to turn a simple little match into a needle; you would think that would be really easy but it wasn't whatsoever. I witnessed Hermione do it perfectly and she tried to correct me on my technique on how I'm performing the spell and I wanted to tell her to shut up, but I didn't because I really don't like being mean whatsoever. Of course, I can see that Hermione's Professor McGonagall's favorite already... figures.

Next was Denfense Against the Dark Arts taught by Professor Quirrel. That was a bust, I thought I was going to learn ultra cool spells where I would get to zap bad guys or my brothers when they're being turds. However, it turns out he was a nervous wreck and too afraid to teach us anything particularly defensive... just a lot of book work.

His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban— he told them— had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Professor Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Professor Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wher- ever he went.

Friday was an important day for Harry, Ronny Ron, Hermione and I. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"Oi Ronny Ron," I said picking through my eggs and sausage before I put it in my mouth, "what do we have this morning, again?"

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ronny Ron, "Snape's Head of Slytherin house, they say he always favors them we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favoured us," said Harry.

Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn't stopped her giving us a huge pile of homework the day before. Gah, I severely dislike homework.

Just then, the post arrived. I got used to all the birds flying around... I don't like birds they scare me out of my wits especially when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. I nearly lost it, but I kept calm... I did my best.

Anyway, Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Strangely enough though I found cool and was tempted to play with one of them.

Professor Snape, like Professor Flitwick, started the class by taking the register— and like Flitwick— he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new— celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their ugly hands; I was about to tell them to shut the bloody hell up, but I felt my table mate— aka Hermione— place her hand on my arm to cease any sort of outburst. Then Professor Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like piercing coal and they had the same coldness as the material. Overall this man reminds me of a great bat that flaps around and scares people.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began and he spoke in barely more than a whisper, but everyone caught every word like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort, "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses ... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper on death... if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. That... sounded rehearsed and like he was performing for a theater trying to create a dramatic effect on all us; I didn't really do much for me, mostly because his appearance is hard to take seriously. Hermione— on the other hand from what I can tell— was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't as stupid as she looked.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? What the deuce? I looked over at Harry who seemingly victimized for this junk and he looked like somebody smacked with a gobstopper; Hermione's hand had shot into the air nearly slicing me in the temple with her finger nails.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. Creepy...

"Tut, tut, fame _clearly_ isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand which probably, knowing the A-type that she so clearly is, motivated her even more to answer the question.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but from what I could tell Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. I was very tempted to take a page out of Fred and George's encyclopedia of pranks and use it against Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

All the while the corrupt teacher was talking I was craftily rolling up a piece of parchment paper that imitated a straw as close as I could get it and the torn off wad I took I was currently in my mouth being moistened to perfection. Then as my peers around me were distracted I blew into the parchment/straw and the spit ball landed into the back of Malfoy's neck.

A small hiss escaped his lips and I tried to look as casual as possible as he began to look around in a flurry. Then he couldn't find as Malfoy began to fumble around to find the offending object, but he couldn't find it. He was too busy with that to notice that it went down his shirt. Soon enough, Crabbe and Goyle had to start helping him and, of course, Professor Snape ignored them completely.

Meanwhile, Professor Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling. I still had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at Daddy's boy struggling along with his friends; I don't know, but I derive great pleasure from watching people like him struggle... What the deuce? What's wrong with me?

"I don't know," said Harry quietly, "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

A few people laughed; I did too and during this moment I jabbed Ronny Ron in the shoulder. At this time he noticed what I did since Malfoy surprisingly didn't draw a lot of attention to himself because of his predicament in finding the offending object. Ronny Ron looked as if somebody smacked him with a hammer and I just put a finger to my lips to signal for him to not make a sound. He complied... enjoying the show for now.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione, "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

In that precise moment Malfoy, or as I like to call him Mouth Boy, finally found the spit ball and he made a _big_ show out of it. I admit, I felt guilty over it... for like a second since he was being such a baby about it.

"Professor Snape!" He whined and everyone began to laugh except the Syltherin's at him, "Someone shot this at my neck!"

Snape looked furious at the malarkey in his classroom... oops. Doesn't this guy realize it takes way to much energy to be and keep up the status of being angry? I suppose not, especially since his beloved student has been _attacked_.

"Who did this?!" Snape snapped, "Tell me this instance, I will not allow this _mockery_ in my classroom!"

A long pause passed on. I certainly was not going to own up to this, do you think I want to take the rather of Professor Snape? Bloody hell no.

"No one's answering...," a large sneer spread on his lips, "until the person who did this admits to the entire classroom that they did this I will be docking points off of the Gryffindor House..., five points."

I rubbed my knees together nervously and tried my best to not look guilty because I feel super guilty.

"Ten points."

Everyone was getting super fidgety and on edge. A few more seconds passed, Professor Snape was about to say fifteen and I was about to give in when someone from behind shouted that it was them. I felt the tension escape my shoulders...

"It was me!" A random child said.

"Well well," he smirked and the kid looked beyond scared, "you have five detentions... And a point will be taken from Gryffindor house for your cheek, Potter."

Things didn't improve for the us as the Potions lesson continued. Professor Snape put us all into pairs and set us to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching us weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticising almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus' cauldron into a twisted blob and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand, "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at me and my partner Hermione will fair just fine.


End file.
